Jack Kaden

Today is Jack’s 6 month birthday. We had grand plans to wake up this morning and put on silly hats and sing to him. But instead I am lying in bed, felled by something that suspiciously resembles the flu, despite the fact that I had a flu shot. Arch is at work dealing with a work crisis that.will.not.quit.

Jack is super smiley and happy these days. One of his favorite games is to swing in his swing (I am convinced that babies love the things that you hate the most, like the swing) and kick his momma. That’s right, I sit there with him on a little stool, and if he gets close enough to kick me, he’ll let out a giggle. It seems he has inherited my husband’s sense of humor. He’s babbling and cooing all over the place and likes to make noises like the alien’s from Mars Attacks - maaarp, maaarp.

He’s starting to gnaw at things and he drools a lot, an indication that he’s teething. He loves shoving his whole hand in his mouth. It’s a super fun party trick, and he’s really quite good at it.

He is an enormous baby. So big that my back has been hurting carrying him around. He is 3 months corrected and we’re guessing that he weighs about 16.5 pounds, which makes him mammoth! We’re weaning him off preemie formula this week and starting to introduce solids this weekend, very exciting for all.

**My husband was pretty sure that “introducing solids” meant that Jack went straight to Cheerios. He brought home a box and was soooo excited to get started. He was crushed when I explained to him that it didn’t work that way…**

Arch will post pics later, sorry for such a lame post, blame it on my fever.

Lydia just won the Polk Award for Foreign Reporting for her coverage of Sudan. She and her better (worse? I kid, Candy, I kid) half, Candy, were here from Afrique in January for a Jack viewing and an exhibit of Candy’s amazing work. During their visit Lyd was gracious enough to take a screaming Jack off my hands so I could have a nice (aka quiet) conversation with friends. Smart, saving the world and a backup baby sitter? Really, we’re quite lucky she even talks to us.

Lydia wrote some very wise words to us about 5 days after Jack was born, words that still ring true today. While I won’t reproduce what she wrote here, I will say that it was easily the most touching thing I have ever read…Arch had to call her and suggest that maybe she should do something with all that talent, like write for the New York Times… oh right.

Anyway, the award is MUCH deserved and we’re celebrating her over here on the mainland!

There is almost exactly 89.5 year difference in age between these two!

Happy 90th Birthday Great Grandpa Abe!

It’s been 3 months and 10 days since Jack came home. It’s been 3 months since he had his Early Intervention Evaluations. He qualified for vision therapy and occupational therapy 2x a week. We have an Occupational Therapist all ready to go. I’ve spoken with her. She sounds lovely and lives around the corner from us. But Dude? We do not have any fucking paperwork.

Have you noticed the cursing?

It could easily be my fault. We were assigned a random Early Intervention Center when we left the NICU and I (naively) thought that all centers were the same. Not true. The center we were assigned to was dirty and grim and had only 1 occupational therapist on call and was just plain old lousy with answering my questions. And our service coordinator, while sweet, is about 10 years old.

So I started the process to switch centers. And now our motherfucking paperwork is sitting on some motherfucking paper pusher’s desk and has been for the past 20 days. Today I had a meltdown on the phone with the head of Early Intervention for NYC.

Why the sense of urgency you wonder? Well, our big city hospital does not have a preemie developmental follow-up clinic. Something most major hospitals have. I suspect it went the way of the ante partum floor and the top notch nursing staff…lost to budget cuts. Basically, when they discharge you, you’re left to fend for yourself - winding your way through a true maze of government and private services, evaluations and roadblocks. Every single piece of information I’ve read says that the earlier your child is in therapy (good therapy mind you), the better they do. The other advantage of regular occupational therapy is that you have someone available to ask questions “is this normal? He does this - what do you think?” Right now all I have available to me is a bunch of harpies.

I am back at work now, but I seem to be spending an awful lot of time calling government officials, doctor’s offices and insurance companies. My husband wonders why I am grumpy and I am wondering just how long I can possibly keep my shit together. I am also left wondering: Is drinking during the work day as politically incorrect as drinking at a playgroup?

Updated before I even got to post… **Tonight (on a friday night! of a long weekend!), our paperwork is being faxed… Whoever said you catch more bees with honey doesn’t know what the fuck they’re talking about.**

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